


in memoriam, sister

by Darkyy



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen, POV Second Person, Siblings, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-20 22:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20682713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkyy/pseuds/Darkyy
Summary: when your sister died, only the stars accompanied you, and they were infamously cold and unforgiving.





	in memoriam, sister

**Author's Note:**

> rip kestrelwing, more backstory for fawncloud yaaay

in one life, she is hearty and robust. a smile painted on the face of thunderclan's golden warrior. it is laughter, and bright eyes, and smiles folded up at the edges. beautiful and bright and bursting like a supernova. there is her, standing tall in the moonlight as she receives her warrior name, memory only blurred just enough to look fuzzy. in another, she's face down, hollow, milky eyes staring off at nothing as sticky crimson pours from her throat and stains the grass. it's the sound of your life crumbling down around you, your stomach falling out and clawing a black hole in your gut. your heart sinks, and it is incredibly, painfully silent. whatever life it is, it plays out the same. 

"it's just meant to be this way," starclan says, as you beg and plead and try to cover the wound, to erase any trace of there ever having been a death. by the 10th time, your pleads are quiet, instead you try to get to her in time, but you're always a few seconds too late. the breath's already left her lungs and you haven't gotten a goodbye in so long.

by the 30th try, you count the seconds under your breath. your movements are automatic, more muscle memory than it should. it shouldn't have to be like this. you count, get to 15 every time. it's turned into a mantra, a prayer to the stars that will never be answered. 

now you just count her heartbeats fading out.

──

"isn't it beautiful?" she asks, one peaceful night. you nod simply, ever quiet; the moon is a claw mark in the sky, it's crescent shape wedging itself between the wreath of stars. it truly is beautiful. silverpelt winks politely back as you stare, more stars and souls than you can comprehend glitter across the expanse of blackness. 

you're in your (her) favorite little clearing; spires of lavender and bluebells sprout up in swaths, and you maneuver around them, not wanting to crush any petals under your paws. she moves gracefully, calculated and practiced pawsteps moving between the flowers with ease. you secretly envy her, just a little bit, for her grace and beauty. you wibble-wobble on your too-large paws, not having grown into them just yet. the large weeping willow tree hangs over it, though giving a good enough view as to not block the sky.

"we're lucky to see so many stars at night, not even windclan could beat this view. just see how big it all is, all these cats, watching down on us. they are wise and great, and we mustn't give up hope, for they are guiding our paws. every mousetail, every fox-length, they walk with us. they listen to our grievances and give us advice, stories, tales, and poetry in return. though, i've never been that good of a poet."

she laughs, a little stunted, and you beg to differ. as she continues, you grow tired, eyes weary as your mind sinks in the stretch of planets and moons and black holes. you take this time to reflect as her words grow quieter, a lulling background noise to your silent rumination.

you and your sister were as different as could be─ her silvery, more blue fur was a beauty tinted in moonlight, while your fawn colored pelt burst through the dawn and melted into day─ but impossibly the same. same warm grin, same perfunctory neatness, same smiling eyes. you and she, she and you. two birds of a feather.

now that feather was adrift in the night, standing out amongst the universe. you scoot a little closer, bump your head a little against the fur of her side, then rest it there. she happily hums a lullaby, satisfied for the night. 

──

in your kithood, you were a quiet, albeit rambunctious little thing. you constantly practiced hunting and fighting moves with your brother, insisting you practice until you had it perfect. of course, you never got it quite perfectly, which made you throw a fit in frustration. you'd throw yourself to the ground, a bit overdramatically, and huff and puff. your sister would be there, patient smile and soft gaze, nudging you to your paws and asking, "why don't we try again?" and you would try, and try until you eventually got it right. and when you got it right, your heart felt full to bursting in your chest. and there your sister would be, bright, sunny grin, and your brother not far behind.

as you grew, they swarmed you with love and praise and patience, until they weren't. until they were bleeding out on the grass and ferns, choking on starclan's mercilessness. and you just stood, stuck to the ground in solid fear, fear that your heart would fall right out of your chest, and a silent confirmation that you knew they'd never catch their breath. then, you counted the seconds, never quite reaching them in time. when your brother died, your sister was there; concealing her grief behind a meticulously crafted mask, one that she wore in the public eye, as though she were practicing a role or playing a part, she comforted you. when your sister died, only the stars accompanied you, and they were infamously cold and unforgiving.

──

(1, 2)

maybe it's meant to be this way.

(3, 4)

isn't it beautiful?

(5, 6)

please don't leave me.

(7, 8)

you're going to be amazing

(9, 10)

everything will be alright.

(11, 12)

i believe in you.

(13, 14)

i love you

(15─)

goodnight.


End file.
